Chapter 21
Ten long years had gone by. Early on, it had been her husband's health that had been her main concern. The physical damage to him had been extensive and even with Time Lord physiology it had been a long and painful climb for him to regain his strength. The explosion that had marred his body had also eliminated his ability to slip into a healing coma, making an ordeal that should have taken a few months into a nightmarish recovery. If that had been the only problem, Peri would have been saddened but accepting of the time it took. However there had been a mental aspect as well. As Harry had lamented time and time again, there were only the Doctor and him left of the Time Lord race. In addition he complained that, as much as she knew he loved her, he felt stuck on Earth, something he'd hated every time it had happened to him in the past. Worst of all nothing he had planned had come to fruition and the Doctor had won... again.
After three years of living with a moody, sometimes violent, Time Lord, Peri had accidentally found the string that would eventually pull Harry back to the man she'd married. She had been grousing about Lothos and his betrayal of the Master. Harry had passed it off, stating categorically that Lothos was in even worse shape than he due to making a tactical error in setting up his escape route to the Republic of Myao. There, the incorporeal being hadn't been able to get any traction being a bodiless being whose minions were either dead from the explosion at the Prometheus Institute or had been jailed by the new government that had come to power weeks after he'd arrived. It wasn't that Harry wasn't angry at Lothos; it was that, in his depression, being reminded of Lothos' betrayal didn't help. However when Peri started talking about the first project Lothos had built where he'd had to run from the government then, the Master became intrigued and asked her to tell him more.
She hadn't been a part of Lothos' program then. Rather, she'd read the papers and reports from that time and had put together a pretty accurate timeline of what had gone on at the project. Lothos, then still a human named Wainwright, had a lucrative business of making bad things happen with his ability to manipulate the past. When he almost killed his archrival, Dr. Beckett, he ended up losing his top agents instead, which was a definite financial drain when he had to replace the agents. The business went bust when the government had realized that he could be a danger to them. He had to flee, having to waste a perfectly good set up by irradiating the building and making it unfit for human habitation, something that had upset the government of the small African nation of Bonzenland to no end. Hard to close business deals when you have a nuclear disaster front and center in your country.
"This could work," the Master stated, his interest growing. "We can go to this old project, rebuild it..."
"With what? We hardly have any money left from what we saved. I'm going to have to find a job soon or we won't be able to pay the rent." During the last several years, in order to maintain a low profile, they had taken on totally new identities - namely that of Harrison and Cherie Duncan - allowing it to be believed that Harry Saxon and Peri Langford had perished in the P.I. explosion. With the new identities also came new appearances for each of them thanks to hair coloring, contacts, and scars that the Master was unable to heal completely on either of them. Furthermore, they'd been forced to sell their home and all of their assets and move to what had been a small sheep farm in the Outback. While it was far less expensive than trying to make ends meet in the city, it was a bit of a constraint in that the nearest town was twenty miles away.
"I'm not ready to give up on this idea just because we're short of cash right now. What is it you humans say? Where there's a will, there's a way? We'll just have to find the way."
"There's another human saying... you can't get blood out of a turnip. Harry, there's literally no way to obtain any resources. If Reggie was alive, he might have been able to finagle something but the Doctor made sure that source of help is non-existent."
At the mention of their deceased friend, Harry looked even more saddened than he usually was. Other than Thete when he was a child, he'd never had a friend quite like Reginald Torkinson. As he thought of the man, an idea came to him. "Whatever happened to Reggie's bank accounts?"
"What bank accounts?"
"He told me once that smart humans always save for what he termed 'a rainy day.' I know that he had at least some money put aside."
"How much could he have put aside? Lothos was generous with some of his higher ranking personnel but Reggie was on the low end of the totem pole."
"That was before I took him under my wing."
"True. But even then, I doubt what he saved would have been enough for what you're planning. It would take a hell of a lot of money and resources to rebuild the old project."
"Not nearly as much as you'd imagine, my dear. If we had something set up, my knowledge of alien technologies would allow us to make whatever the traffic will bear. I figure several thousand would be all we'd need to set up the shell of a company. Where did you say Lothos's original program was located?"
"A small country in Africa. Bonzenland."
"What's the economy like there? Surely it would be less costly than here."
She shrugged slightly. "How would I know? I'm not a global financial expert. I'd never even heard of Bonzenland before I read about it. And when I did, I swore for about a week that it was made up, like Balamory."
"You need to research it then. I can't do everything you know. We need to find out what's happened to Reggie's money. I know he didn't have a will or anything. While we're at it, what about the other workers at P.I.? Certainly if we paid them they owe us something."
Peri gave a little smile. "I think I could figure out a way to get into some files, maybe some online bank accounts, and make a few unscheduled donations to a small charity. Naturally, the charity will mysteriously disappear after the funds are transferred and cashed out."
"Now you're thinking, my dear. Don't forget to learn more about that little country too. I doubt it could be too expensive."
Leaving her husband for several days in the Outback, Peri went into the nearest city and, using her knowledge of computers and the country's library system, was able to look into the bank accounts of several former employees of the Prometheus Institute, most of them having been killed in the explosion. She'd found many had heirs who had already collected the funds from the accounts. A small number, however, hadn't and she was able to manipulate several banking systems to transfer funds into a single account she opened under the name of Baaswraak Enterprises, a small charity that purportedly helped the disabled in Africa.
However, the biggest windfall came from Reggie himself. The man had obviously been embezzling from Lothos for many years. The web of his accounts was vast and intricate. One would turn up one account to find that it led to many more. Reggie's legacy alone would mean they would be able to fund their quest... which would also allow him to be avenged. With the newly acquired funds, the Master and Peri were able to procure travel to Bonzenland. There they convinced the government to sell them the now-radioactive facility Wainwright once owned with the promise that they would clean the area and make it safe. The Master assured the President of his capabilities in achieving the goal by providing a well-spoken (and completely incoherent to ordinary humans) explanation of the process. Once they were able to obtain the property, the task of removing all radioactive material began.
The Master used various techniques to accomplish the feat, including using some that the Dominators used when conquering worlds. It took five years to finish the clean up, which resulted in an abundant amount of radiation being stored in specially made containers. It took another three years for the Master to reconfigure Lothos' old complex into one that would not only run on the energy the radiation provided but also removed all of the side effects inherent in travelling without protection from the time vortex.
Still, they hadn't tested the equipment and the Master wasn't ready to use up one of his lives in finding out if the damned thing would work.
"We need a guinea pig because I sure as hell am not going to test it," Peri stated bluntly. "I wouldn't suggest one of the natives of this country. The last thing we need is to get on the bad side of the President."
The Master sighed but then his face lit up. "Dr. Margaret Hawthorne."
"That Australian bitch?" she replied with interest. "It would have to be a well-planned kidnapping as there isn't any way she'd ever come along willingly. And we'd probably need a private charter, no questions asked." She smiled, her eyes showing that she was already orchestrating a plan. "Shall we return to the land of Oz for a short while, my love?"
"I have a better idea. We bring her to us. A nice conference on geological research with the leading scientists in their areas should be irresistible to her."
"And far less costly for us, certainly. I'm sure that I could arrange a get-together of geologists, maybe even convince the government to allow them unique access to some of their geological treasures. That would definitely get lots of attention all over the world. And if one scientist in that whole plethora of scientists went missing in this country, it would certainly be a tragic mystery but there is little they could do to investigate it without offending some very highly influential politicians here."
"Yes. Exactly. And once we prove the equipment is safe, we can use it ourselves."
"This is why we are the perfect couple, darling. Your brains and my brawn," she teased.
"I can think of a few more things that make us perfect together," he said saddling up to her sensuously.
"Oh, I bet you can," she purred in response, grabbing his collar and pulling him closer. "Why don't you show me what you know?"
DWQLTWDWQLTW
Cardiff, United Kingdom
December 2009
The Time Lord now turned to Sam, giving him a knowing smile. "Ready to go home?" he questioned.
"I've been ready for years," the leaper answered truthfully. "I'm really going to make it this time?"
The Gallifreyan immediately turned towards Al. "With Albert's help, you will." Seeing the hologram frown in confusion, he continued. "I need a time and a place to take him and to hell with his rules."
Al smiled. "Oh. Yeah. New Mexico just south of the Trinity Bomb Site, April 5th, 2010." He turned the handlink to the Doctor where Ziggy had provided the actual latitude and longitude readings.
Al smiled. "Oh. Yeah. New Mexico just south of the Trinity Bomb Site, April 5th, 2010." He turned the handlink to the Doctor where Ziggy had provided the actual latitude and longitude readings.
"On our way," the alien commented, once again turning to the console and changing the coordinates accordingly.
"In that case, see you on the other side," the Italian said emphatically, giving the alien a salute before disappearing through the Imaging Chamber door.
The moment Al left, the Doctor turned to Sam and gave him a winning grin before exclaiming, "Allons-y!"
The time rotor started to move in a regular up and down motion before suddenly stopping.
"What?" the Doctor exclaimed with a frown. Knocking on the glass casing that held the rotor, he murmured, "What's the matter, hmm?"
Sam groaned. "Really? Now? You have a thousand year old timeship and it breaks down now?"
"Oi! She isn't breaking down and she's much older than a thousand years old so give her a break," the Time Lord complained. "If the TARDIS isn't dematerializing, there's a logical explanation."
"And that would be..." the leaper asked clearly expecting to have the question answered.
"I haven't the foggiest," came a muttered response as the Gallifreyan slipped on his glasses to look more intently at the time rotor.
"Great," Sam said, dropping down into the console chair, clearly deflated.
"Maybe she's just tired," Glad suggested. "I know I would be if I had been moving around as much as she has."
The Doctor shook his head. "She doesn't get tired like we do. I don't know. It's like she's queasy or something. Upset stomach? Well, if she had a stomach but you get the idea."
"I don't suppose you have any Pepto Bismol for her."
"What's Pepto Bismol?" Glad questioned with a frown.
"A medicine used to calm stomachs. You'd love it. It's pink and tastes like wintergreen," the alien informed her.
"I like wintergreen," the girl responded.
"Just don't go drinking a lot of Pepto Bismol. It'll make you sick."
"I thought you said it makes your stomach feel better."
"Only if you are actually taking it when you have an upset stomach. If your stomach is fine... it's a bit like swallowing castor oil, despite the flavor."
"Yuck."
"And how is this conversation going to get the TARDIS to dematerialize?" Sam put in, clearly starting to get a little annoyed.
"Never said that it would," the Time Lord informed him. "I think that in this case, Pepto Bismol or the equivalent wouldn't be much help." Just as he was about to go into a detailed explanation on his opinion, the door opened, admitting Jack and causing the three occupants to look at him with surprise.
"You're back!" Glad exclaimed, rushing to hug the immortal man.
Jack hugged her back. "Well... you never left." He looked over to Sam. "I thought he was taking you home."
"So did I," the physicist groused. "TARDIS decided to go on strike."
"Well, don't feel too bad about it," the ex-Time Agent stated. "I didn't exactly go home either."
"It isn't Cardiff out there?" the Doctor questioned. "Well, that would explain..."
"It's Cardiff. But it's not three months ahead of our last stop. You actually dropped me off a couple of months too early. I'll have to avoid running into myself before I go to the United States." He sighed. "You know, it's really a shame that running into oneself causes such temporal anomalies. I mean... it would sort of be nice meeting myself and being able to ..."
"Stop it!" the Doctor ordered.
"Discuss the issues of the day," Jack finished. "Not everything I say is sexual, you know."
"Right," Sam responded. "And for once, I really don't care if it is or isn't. I don't give a flying flip if you do have an erotic attraction to yourself and could care less if you acted on it."
"There are many people I would willingly do in a heartbeat but myself isn't one of them." He grinned slightly. "Watching on the other hand..."
"You're incorrigible," the Time Lord responded with a chuckle.
"You wouldn't have me any other way." He went over to the console and tapped on a gauge that suddenly dropped. "Umm... doesn't this gauge indicate the amount of energy the TARDIS has to use for traveling?"
"Yes," came the patient response.
"Then I think I found your problem."
"You did?"
"Yeah. Your gauge was stuck. You're running on fumes... or rather not running."
"No, I'm not. I opened the engines up just like normal. We should be fully fueled," the Gallifreyan protested, going over to double-check the gauge Jack was referring to.
"You let the TARDIS run out of fuel?" Sam asked.
"No!" the Time Lord once again countered. He thought for a long moment. "Maybe," he corrected. "Well... come to think if it, I might not have opened the engines after all."
"Great," Sam repeated. "How long until we're operational again?"
"Well, once I open the engines, only a few minutes. Maybe a little longer with how ill the TARDIS seems to feel." Going to the other side of the console, he pushed a few buttons and pulled up on a level. "There we go! Estimated time of departure..." He looked at the viewscreen and read, "... six hours?! Seriously?!"
"Well... if the TARDIS feels ill, six hours is hardly any time at all," Glad pointed out.
Sam sighed in resignation. "I guess considering how long I've been trying to get home, Glad's right. Six hours isn't much...even if it feels like eternity now."
"Don't worry, Sam. I'll take you all out to the best fish and chips place in Cardiff and the hours will go by like this," he said snapping his fingers.
"Is it that little shack just off the wharf?" the Doctor questioned with a smile. "Hope it's still there, especially after the incident with Blon."
"Oh, it's still there. Popular place." He pulled out his smart phone and hit a few buttons. "We better get going... I have Alison holding table for us. Great waitress... even better in the sack..."
"Stop it!" The other two men cautioned.
Jack sighed. "You weren't nearly as much of a prude when you wore leather," he complained to the Doctor, who just smiled.
"Leather?" Glad asked. "Like hunting clothes... or a blacksmith's apron? I don't see how what you do for a living has anything to do with being prudish."
"She just is so adorably ignorant, isn't she?" the Time Agent commented with a smile.
"I'm not ignorant!" she complained. "I know a lot of things!"
"Umm... Jack's referring to the fact you obviously don't know that leather is now more of a fashion statement than protective clothing," Sam said. "I just don't believe that wearing leather would affect your world view," he said, his eyes turning to the Doctor.
"It wasn't the leather. It was the man wearing it," the Doctor said drily.
Seeing Sam's confusion, Jack waved his hand. "Never mind. We're keeping Alison waiting."
"Can't leave her waiting," the Doctor agreed. "Come on," he encouraged, heading for the door.
The group followed him out, ready to get a nice meal since they were, for the moment, stranded in Cardiff.